


Reprieve

by cadmean



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Loyalty, M/M, set sometime vaguely pre-ARR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:29:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmean/pseuds/cadmean
Summary: “Is it treason,” Varis asks suddenly from out of the gloom, his voice initially so low a hiss that Regula has to lean forward to catch it at all, “to want what is best for my country?"
Relationships: Varis zos Galvus/Regula van Hydrus
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27
Collections: Minigame: Round 1





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VenatorNoctis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/gifts).



Regula finds Varis pacing the length of his chambers with the forcedly-slow footsteps of a man only barely managing to rein in his frustration. It’s surprisingly difficult to spot him at all amidst the dim gloom permeating the room, at first; the dark ceremonial armor Varis is still wearing blending together uncannily with the darkness. All but one of the ceruleum lamps are as yet unlit, Regula sees as he draws closed the door behind himself, and what little light that lone one does cast is of a cold, almost ghostly pallor.

When he’d received the summons to attend Varis late into the evening, Regula had initially been at a loss as to what could have possibly drawn Varis away so quickly from his audience with the Emperor, but between the agitated state he’s in and the unusually elaborate armor he’s still wearing, Regula can guess well enough at his dearest friend's reasons. His Radiance and Varis have never, for as long as Regula can remember, been on particularly good terms – though not for lack of trying on Varis’ part, as he is also very much aware.

“Is it treason,” Varis asks suddenly from out of the gloom, his voice initially so low a hiss that Regula has to lean forward to catch it at all, “to want what is best for my country? Is it treason to wish for Garlemald and her people to avoid being bled dry in civil war simply because one man refuses to account for his own mortality?”

He isn’t shouting – would never allow himself that final slip in control – but Regula doesn’t need the familiarity of almost three decades spent by his side to know that it’s a very close thing. Varis’ hands are curled into tight fists at his side, and beneath the ceremonial armor Regula can see the terribly tense set of Varis’ shoulders easily enough, with each heavy step he takes only serving to drive that tension deeper.

It hurts, to see him like this – frustration ill suits someone as determined as Varis, and it is especially galling when there is nothing Regula can do to alleviate it.

“Is it treason?” Varis’ voice is perilously rough on that last word, and Regula digs his finger into his palms so as not to reach out, to force himself to stay where he is. Sympathy, he knows full well, would be unwelcome right now. “Nay – for should not the future of the empire be more important than my grandsire’s _inexplicable_ inability to consider the ramifications of dying before he names an heir? No,” he repeats. “No. And yet that is what the Emperor all but called it.”

There it is. Regula allows himself a small frown of his own at the thought of the choice words His Radiance must have had for Varis in their earlier meeting. It would not have been the first time Varis has brought up the matter of succession – and with the emperor’s health continuing to visibly decline with each passing week, he isn’t the only one pressing the issue – but His Radiance has always had little patience for those members of his family that yet remain, Varis foremost among them.

From his own experience in the provinces, where even the death of a single imperial officer could be the cause of large-scale upheavals among the population, Regula would not call Varis’ insistence on a clearly designated line of succession anything but a necessity. Yet through his friendship with Varis, Regula has also come to know Solus zos Galvus well enough to be well aware that any criticism leveled at His Radiance from his within his own family would be less than welcome – it is not treason, Regula agrees, and yet he is painfully aware that any passing servant who might chance to overhear Varis would not be as readily amenable to considering the semantics, should Varis give voice to the obvious conclusion to his thoughts.

“Varis,” Regula ventures, and then, when it becomes clear that his friend hasn’t heard him over his own eerily level-voiced tirade, “My lord.”

The reaction is delayed, but it does come: Varis’ eyes narrow and his frown deepens and then, at last, he stops his pacing and the whole force of his focus comes to rest on Regula. He meets that gaze unflinchingly, wishing that he could bear some of the frustrated pain reflected in them in Varis’ stead – and only when Varis inclines his head does Regula take a step forward into the room proper, closer to him.

“Would that I could tell you aught but that which you already know,” Regula offers, taking another step forward, and another, until he is within easy reach of Varis. When Varis only continues to watch him, he reaches out to lay a hand on his shoulder, the gesture no less comforting in intent for the slowness with which it happens. It is all he can give, for now. “In this, as in everything – I am for you.”

There is a moment of silence as Regula bites down on everything else he dare not say out loud, not here, not while His Radiance is still living. Regula will readily follow Varis even if outright treason is the path he decides to take, but he will not be the one to take that first step.

One day, perhaps, they will take it together. But not today.

While he's still deliberating his next words, a gauntlet-clad hand comes to rest over Regula’s own, and when he looks up at Varis, he’s given a slow nod. The first hints of a grateful smile. “Of course.”

Varis draws away after another moment, settling down on one of the nearby high-backed chairs with a low sigh as all the tension seems to suddenly drain out of him. Exhaustion is writ plain on his face when he once more looks at Regula – the sort of bone-deep weariness that no sleep will be able to alleviate, as years of experience have taught him. It makes Regula ache in sympathy; makes him think, not for the first time, how much more at ease Varis would look once the future of Garlemald no longer hung in the balance.

Another step on unsure footing, for now, and he takes great care to discard the thought as quickly as it had come up.

At length, Varis says, “Forgive me. I’d hoped to make for more amiable company, by the time you arrived.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” Regula tells him, smiling warmly as Varis begins to flick on the ceruleum lamps before indicating for him to take a seat beside him. “Would only that I could spare you these frustrations. Although,” and he stops short, coming to halt in front of Varis as if the thought had only just occurred to him, “perhaps I can alleviate them somewhat.”

This step, at least, they have long since become well-versed in taking together.

Regula sinks to his knees in front of Varis with less ease than he’d have done years ago, when they were both younger and not made quite so weary by the world yet, but the motion itself is familiar enough – and if his bones protest at the cold floor then they only do so until he catches the fond look in Varis’ eyes. With steady, practiced motions Regula begins to unclasp layers of ceremonial armor, pushing aside fabric and gently removing thin armor plating until Varis’ cock lies bare. He is half-hard already and grows harder still as Regula leans in to pepper open-mouthed kisses along its length, until Varis’ breathing grows heavy and large fingers find their way into his hair.

At a slight nudge Regula takes him into his mouth. Varis’ cock is as large as the rest of him, and though there is something to be said for years of practice the stretch is still wide enough to sting as it fills his mouth and nudges at the back of his throat -- the sensation so good, so familiar, that Regula can't help a soft moan. The finger’s twined into his hair twitch ever so slightly at the sound, and before Varis has to do it himself Regula leans forward, swallowing his cock until it’s well down his throat. The satisfied moan he gets in response is well worth the discomfort.

Regula breathes through his nose as best as he can before pulling back, slowly. He sets a steady rhythm, taking Varis’ cock deeper until his nose is pressed to the fine silk of his undergarments, spit beginning to drool down his chin as his lips stretch wide around Varis’ considerable length. He swallows reflexively and above him Varis shudders. The hand tangled in his hair comes to cup his cheek, a thumb swiping across the bone there, and Varis mutters in a low voice, “You are too good to me, my friend.”

It’s Regula’s turn to shiver, now, and when Varis’ hand returns to cup the back of his head, Regula readily lets himself be guided into a faster, sloppier rhythm. Varis fucks his mouth not roughly but with deliberation, knowing full well how to push Regula just so until he’s bottoming out on every thrust. It’s all Regula can do to keep air in his lungs and his hands at his sides – and for each breath of his that’s cut short he is rewarded with a stifled moan from Varis.

Before long his thrusting grows erratic, sharper, and a quiet whisper of his name is all the warning Regula gets before Varis buries himself down Regula’s throat as deep as he can, cock pulsing as he comes. Regula swallows around him as best as he can, vision hazy from the lack of air, jaw burning at the stretch – and yet only when Varis runs a gentle hand through his hair does Regula pull away, licking his lips as he looks up to meet Varis’ gaze.

Behind an already-receding haze of pleasure and a glimmer of fierce emotion that neither of them have ever needed to name, there’s still that earlier frustration shining through – and some hurts cut so deeply that Regula isn’t sure anything will be able to wipe it away – but it’s duller now than it was earlier, less obviously at the fore. And although he dearly wishes he could do more for Varis, Regula is aware that it’s all he can hope for, for now.

Even small steps must lead somewhere, though, and one day, Regula is certain, things will be different. For Varis' sake, he will make it so.


End file.
